


In Need of Help

by HufflepunkAuthor



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, it's no biggie, just like cuts, very light description of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:52:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7902124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HufflepunkAuthor/pseuds/HufflepunkAuthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is having a lazy day and Ryan shows up injured.  Michael helps him out and they, like, kiss and stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Need of Help

Michael sits him self down on his couch having just put a movie in his DVD player. Today was dubbed a relaxation day by the crew, after nearly a whole two weeks of planing a heist and spending the last two days on the actual execution of the job – Michael would admit to nearly anyone at this point that he is exhausted. 

Sometime during the movie, Michael passes out. His mind swims with vivid dreams of explosions creating creators in their wake. He’s startled awake during a lull in his dream-state when the movie breaks out into fight scene. He realizes his hunger and goes to the kitchen to microwave three hot pockets. 

He returns to his TV, with a plate of two and half hot pockets, to see the credits rolling. He puts in the next movie he has in his stack – Thelma and Louise – and returns to his seat. 

He spends the day in this manner; getting up to pee, eat, and change films. He takes a movie break to play Zelda for a few hours, before putting in Oceans Eleven. The next time Michael looks out the window he realizes night has fallen over Los Santos. 

This is mildly surprising, but it’s not as if Michael hadn’t planed to waste this day away. Three knocks at his door jolts him out of his thoughts. This startles Michael, he can't imagine who would knocking on his door at this hour; or at all today. The Fake AH Crew should all be resting and – 

He’s shaken out of his thoughts again by a second series of knocks. He goes to his door and looks through the peep hole. 

Ryan? Covered in blood? Michael opens the door and a pile of a person collapses onto his chest. 

“Jesus fuck, Rye!” Michael struggles under this new weight, but manages to get Ryan through the door and close it behind the two of them. Ryan walks with Michael when the younger of the men moves him. 

“ ‘M sorry, Mike - ah!” Michael, trying to maneuver Ryan to a seat at his kitchen table, grabs at Ryan’s side causing him to yell in pain. 

Michael gets Ryan sat down in the chair. The anger leaves Michael’s voice and face, “Fuck man, what happened to you?” 

He looks at the injured man’s face, searching for anything serious. Finding that most of the blood there is from other, not-head related wounds he allows his anger to return. “You did something stupid, didn't you.” I wasn’t a question. 

“Well, I don’t think it was stupid . . .” A half smile appears on Ryan’s face as he speaks. 

“Shut up,” Michael glares at him and stands from his position of leaning over Ryan, “stay here and don’t fucking bleed on anything.” 

Michael heads to his bathroom to get the well stocked First Aid Kit kept there. He stops for a moment to push the forming crush on the commonly regarded as insane member of the Fake AH Crew to far reaches of his mind. He hurries back to Ryan, knowing not to keep him waiting to long. 

Looking at his friend, bruised and bloody, he feels his anger ebb away. He takes a deep breath to push away the need to go kill the people that hurt the man with pain in his eyes before him. 

The redhead sizes Ryan up once again, “Okay, your left side seemed pretty fucked up. Is that the worst of it?” 

Ryan seemed to bring his mind back to the present. “The worst? Oh, yeah.” 

Michael, rummaging through his kit, responds with, “Take your shirt off.” 

“Buy me a drink first, geez.” Ryan smiles at Michael when he turns back to face him. 

“If you weren’t bleeding like fuck, I’d slap you.” Michael turns back to getting the gauze. Ryan gives a deep chuckle and pulls off his black leather jacket and stained tee shirt off. 

“This isn’t coming out is it?” He asks Michael, putting he bloody shirt on the table. 

Michael glances at it, “Fucking christ, no. It’s not.” 

When Michael has finished preparing everything he expects to need, he turns back to address Ryan and only flinches a little at the gash he sees covering a good portion of the man’s side. 

“This is going to hurt,” he says, already poring the rubbing alcohol over the wound before he says ‘is’. 

“FUCK!” Ryan responds, intelligently. 

Michael finished bandaging his side, wrapping the gauze around the whole of Ryan’s stomach and back to keep it in place, depriving himself of the view of the Ryan’s toned abs. 

“So, you gonna tell me how this happened or not?” Michael prompts him to speak as he moves on to lesser damages scattered across Ryan’s skin. 

“These guys ganged up on me . . .” Ryan let his sentence to trail off. 

“Unprovoked?” Michael highly doughty that. 

“No . . .” Ryan saw Michael’s expectant look. “Okay, so I was in this bar –”

“You don’t drink, why were you in a bar?” Michael inserted. 

“I know I don’t drink, Michael. I just wanted to get out my apartment. I thought you wanted to know how this happened?” At Michael’s nod he continued. “So, there were some guys at the bar and I could hear their conversion. I got that it was about AH, so I listened in. And they were making fun of Gavin, but that was fine. It wasn’t too serious, but, uh,” Ryan’s voice dropped a few octaves, Michael realizes this must have been what set Ryan off “then they, they started talking about other people . . .” 

Michael finished the bandage on the last cut. “Who . . . were they talking about?” Micheal asks carefully. 

Ryan opened his mouth. And then closed it. He opened it again and managed to say, “You.” 

Michael stayed silent, knowing Ryan needed to speak in his own time. 

“It was horrible Michael,” the Vagabond whispered, “They said you were unstable and a monster and . . . I, I didn’t mean to attack them. I just found myself with my hand around one of their throats. I think I killed one of them. I, just, had too . . .” Ryan seemed to have lost his words when he stopped talking. 

Michael looked at him, into his eyes. Someone poetic may have even said he looked straight into the blond man’s soul. A small smile appeared on his lips. 

“You did it for me?” Michael let his voice sound small. 

Ryan, looking back at Michael, seemed mystified; with his voice lower than Michael had ever heard him, he said, “Yes.” 

Michael leaned in and quickly kissed the older man, enjoying the shocked look on Ryan’s face when he pulled away. 

He shook his head slightly with a smile. “My knight in shining armor,” Michael was able to say before being pulled back by Ryan. 

Their kiss lasted much longer this time and became much deeper, verging on dirty. When they pulled back for air Ryan let out a laugh, and was stopped short by a open hand slap to his face. 

Michael’s finger appears in Ryan’s face, as if scolding a child. “You ever pull another stunt like this, and I’ll kill you myself.” 

Michael then hugs Ryan around his middle, carful to avoid his left side, as if to show he could never actually hurt Ryan. Ryan hugged him back; and Micheal was content in the knowledge that Ryan could never lay a finger on Michael either. 

Michael pulled put out of their embrace and stood from sitting on Ryan’s lap, not remembering how he ended up there. 

“Come on, let’s go to bed. You can take a shower in the morning and I’ll redress your bandages. We can talk through our new, I guess, relationship – that sounds weird – tomorrow too. I just want to cuddle, right now.” 

Ryan, being exhausted at this point, follows Michael to the bedroom. He strips out of his jeans and gets under the covers, and fall asleep nearly the second his head hits the pillow. Michael follows in suit. He rests his head on Ryan’s chest, his heartbeat lulling Michael to sleep. The younger of the two curls into Ryan’s side and smiles as an arm unconsciously wraps around him protectively.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I know I'm not suppose to put this, but this is my first fic. I just hope everyone enjoyed it! And, um thanks for reading. 
> 
> Oh, and, if people request it I'll do a chapter two from Ryan's perspective. Kay, bye.


End file.
